Of All the Weirdos in New York
by doctoring
Summary: Wade had learned to cope with the loss of Vanessa, but ends up having a bad moment, causing him to not only reveal his identity to Spider-Man, but also confess his grieving issues. This becomes a catalyst for their friendship, along with Peter's feelings towards Wade. / Sequel to Writer's Month Fic #11: Unavoidable Death / A Fic for Writer's Month. Word Prompt: feelings


It's been one year since Spider-man had first surprised Deadpool with a burrito.

It's been one year since Deadpool had tried to hold back the sadness, failing in the end, in front of Spider-man.

It's been one year since any sort of public breakdown.

It's been, well, just a bit less than six months since he had a break down at home. But each time he did cry over Vanessa, it wasn't anywhere near as bad as the one before.

Deadpool thought things were beginning to look up, that he had finally learned how to cope.

* * *

Spider-man wants to track a certain villain, but it will take him just outside the city, quite a bit away from his usual route. Deadpool happily invites himself to the stakeout, wanting to get out for some fresh air and fresh gun fire since he was feeling like he was in a bit of a slump that day.

The stakeout was a bust, obviously a false lead.

"C'mon. Let's take the scenic way home at least," Spider-man said dejectedly, kicking at nothing as they walked along the alleyways.

"Buck up, you never know, you might see something awesome along the way." Deadpool gasped. "What if those fools decided to go to the NEXT warehouse, just one over!"

Spider-man laughed. "Not likely. There're no other warehouses around here. But… I did hear about this new restaurant, an all-night diner, if you want to try it? It's rather close…"

"Oh, you trying to trick me onto a date, Spidey?" Deadpool teases. He races forward, trying to escape from Spider-Man's fake punches. "I'm not dressed for such an occasion! What's the new place even called?"

As he runs into the next street, Deadpool freezes, looking at the brightly illuminated sign. He knew this was the place before Spider-Man could utter the one word to break him.

"Vanessa's"

Spider-Man walks past him, heading towards the metro-style diner. He turns back suddenly when Deadpool makes a sound that concerns him greatly.

Spider-Man stood there; words trapped in his mouth. He wanted to ask him if he was okay, maybe just play it off with a joke about taco burps, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. It's been too long since he's seen him or anyone else tremble like that.

Finally, he manages a small, "Hey," just as Deadpool takes off, sprinting in the opposite direction.

From the sporadic pattern of running, Spider-Man believed Deadpool was trying to lose him, to run and not be found, and he almost managed that. Deadpool had slipped into a small apartment building in a part of town Spider-Man had never ventured into. After a bit of snooping around, confirming that this was indeed the place Deadpool was currently hiding, Spider-Man jumps through the opened window.

He immediately stands, arms raised in defense as he says, "Stay calm! I was just worried about you!"

Deadpool had stood up immediately as Spider-Man entered his living room, pointing a gun at him. "Jesus, Fuck, Spidey!" Deadpool scrambled for his mask, hastily putting it on. "I thought I had lost you a good seven blocks ago."

Deadpool dropped the gun on the table, standing upright as he tugged his gloves back on. He stared at Spider-Man, unsure of what to say, how to explain his face and his hands. He knew Spider-Man had seen the lower portion of his face, but never his whole head, never knowing the entire extent of the damage.

"It's true… you're him."

_Him? What do you mean-_

"I heard about you… that one weird bartender downtown told me about you… you lost your wife a while back, didn't you?"

Wade sighed heavily, mentally making a note to threaten that damn bartender later, after he asks Peter what he was doing there in the first place.

"Fun fact for ya. Her name was Vanessa."

"Oh… oh shoot, shoot, shoot. I didn't know, dude. I seriously didn't-"

Wade waves him off, plopping back down on the couch. "I know you didn't know, dork. It's fine. It just… it took me by surprise, that's all. Shut that damn window, will you? I don't want any other spiders or humanoid persons walking up in here like you did."

Spider-Man sheepishly complied. When he turned back around, Wade already had his mask and gloves off again, and was working on peeling his suit down, exposing his torso.

"Um, are you sure you wanna…"

"I already saw my face. Seeing it again won't make a difference."

Spider-Man hated how solemnly Deadpool had sounded. He tentatively leaned against the arm of the couch. Deadpool turned to him, outstretching his hand.

As Spider-Man took it, Deadpool said, "Hey. I'm Wade Wilson."

Spider-Man shook his hand, but hastily reached up with his other hand, yanking off his mask. "Peter Parker."

"The fuck!? Why!?" Deadpool shouted, shielding his eyes, and flinging himself onto the couch, burying his face. "You didn't have to go and unmask yourself."

Peter shrugged and said, "I thought it was only fair, since you did it, but not by choice."

Wade laid there and tried not to look back at Peter again.

_Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Why is he so pretty!? And why the hell did I strip down like this!?_

Wade waited a moment, hoping Peter would put his mask back on so he could talk to him like he normally does, but when he looked up, he found the situation had worsen.

Peter still had his mask off, but he was sitting precariously on the edge of the coffee table, peering at him. When Wade started to sit up, Peter leaned over a bit, knocking his knees against Wade's.

They sat there in silence for a moment, until Peter said, "We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to. I get it. Really. If you just want to do a mental rewind back to the warehouse and talk about where to go for a late-night dinner instead, I'm down."

As Peter spoke, Wade knew he wasn't lying, and he wasn't speaking out of pity. If Wade had said he never wanted to talk about it, ever, no matter what, Peter would probably shrug and say, "Okay, cool, so you wanna see if that late-night Jamaican food truck is around?"

And that made Wade want to spill his guts for the first time in forever.

"She was killed by some lackey that worked for a guy I failed to kill…" He pauses, seeing no change in Peter's face, no overly sympathetic look, just general attentiveness as if he was merely describing the plot to a film. Wade continues, giving Peter a rundown of the relationship, their last few days, and finally her death and how he couldn't handle it, and apparently still has bad days where he can't handle it.

_I should probably leave out the time travel bit though. Don't want to scare the poor boy or make him think I made everything up._

Wade finished his spiel with, "So yeah, it just gets to me sometimes, especially since no one else can really understand. They think they do, but none of them were the cause of their significant other's death."

Peter nods and says, "I get that, not wanting to hear those cliché lines like, 'I understand your loss,' just to find out they're trying to compare your loss to losing a pet that lived a long life, or a friend of only a year, or even a preferred deli worker who transferred to another store."

Wade threw his arms up into the air, almost hitting Peter in the face. "EXACTLY! It is NOT the same thing!"

"Well… with that being said… and please hear me out…" Wade noted the way Peter gently pushed the gun away on the coffee table before continuing. "I do understand. Almost exactly…. I lost my significant other, Gwen, and it was entirely my fault."

"But you're the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man! You're everyone's hero! You-"

"Tried to be a hero but ended up causing her to die midair with my own webbing." Peter look down at his hands, flexing them.

Deadpool suddenly remembered something. He had a vague memory of whispers of Spider-Man trying to save a girl who was falling, just to find that she had a broken neck.

_So, he must have caused the broken neck… and that girl was his…_

Peter looks back up at Wade. "So… I get it. You lost the one you love the most, and you blame yourself, not in a melodramatic way but in an acknowledgment of your own involvement. And to make it worse, there's no one else like that around you. Just people ready to throw down self-help tips, shallow platitudes, and strained smiles."

Wade nodded. "Exactly… except… _you_ get that…"

Peter grinned at him. "I suppose so… so, hey, you feel like joining me for some late-night pancakes? Heard IHOP was doing all-you-can-eat on the 13th and I believe it's been the 13th for a few hours now."

_Dammit! Pancakes! Of course! Not Jamaican food!_

_How the hell did I forget AYCE pancakes was coming up!_

Wade ignored the way Peter flinched when he smacked himself in the forehead at his own stupidity.

"Sure. But I wanna go in my civies, if you don't mind. Meet you at the one closest to the library?"

"Cool, I'll run home and DAMMIT WADE WAIT TIL I LEAVE BEFORE YOU DO THAT!"

Wade laughed, listening to the sound of Peter scrambling to get back out that window, the one he typically keeps open because it likes to stick, like it is right now. He continued to peel out the lower half of his suit with only his feet, wondering if he even had any clean underwear at the moment.

_This is going to be one fun friendship!_

* * *

And that was all Wade needed.

Someone to genuinely understand but wasn't pushing him to talk about his feelings, especially when he didn't want to.

Aside from the one and only "I do understand," no other cliché psychobabble line was uttered at him. And the thing was, Peter meant that line, he really did understand.

Over the next year, Wade came to find out that Peter really did understand him.

He never said a word, never asked. Whenever Wade needed to talk about Vanessa, Wade himself was the one to bring it up. Otherwise, it was almost as though Peter could just sense when Deadpool was having a bad day, and would just wait it out with him, allowing him to decide how detailed he wanted to be and how he wanted to ride out that particular storm. And no matter what, he was always prepared no matter what Wade threw at him.

Peter just always seemed to know.

Wade saw that as Spider-Man's greatest superpower, though being able to swing through New York without relying on taxis was a close second.

_Yeah. This is good. This is all I need._

* * *

During that same year, things were similar for Peter. Wade was there for him on the rare occasion he was dwelling on Gwen a bit too much. If he was ever in a funk for whatever other reason, Wade never pressed him, just occasionally reminded him that he's here for him for whatever he needs, then immediately goes back to whatever he was doing, though Peter could tell that he was still keeping an eye on him.

But unlike Wade, this wasn't all he needed.

Peter found himself needing more… though of what, he wasn't sure.

Wade was all over the place for him, but he found it intriguing. He found himself sharing in Wade anger and joy, but just figured himself to be an empathetic person, saying he does that with others that are close to him.

Then he realized that there was probably no one closer to him than Wade.

Deadpool would be gone for extended periods of time on missions, and Peter found himself missing him if enough time had pass. He tries to push away the thought that 48 hours constituted as "enough time" to pass to begin wondering about his whereabouts, his safety, and his eventual return home.

Wade would flirt with him all the time, which would frustrate Peter. Until the day Peter realize his frustration wasn't from Wade's forwardness, especially at inopportune times. What was bothering him about the flirting was that he wasn't sure if Wade was serious, or just teasing him, or worse, completely oblivious to how badly he's impacting Peter.

One day, while out on patrol, Deadpool grips Spider-man's biceps and asks, "Have you been working out? You look super muscular today, I don't know why… is it bench-presses or curls? Hey, how can spiders do curls?

Wade goes into a long spiel with his theories on how actual arachnids would do bench-presses with all eight legs, when Peter catches himself grinning at him behind his mask, allowing all these feelings to well up inside his chest.

_Shoot. Just how far gone am I?_

-the end-

* * *

_A/N: For information about this series or other fics I write, go to .com_


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